I’ve never really been on a job interview before. Because I’ve never had a job. A job job you know. I remember one of my friends going for a job interview for a job where you sold nails over the phone or something stupid like that. He was reading an article about what to do or not do, and it said that you should wait to light up until the person interviewing you did so first. The advice for women was not to wear your fancy diamonds because then it would look like you didn’t need a job. I assume the first question an interviewer asks a woman is “So are you gonna put out or are you a stick in the mud?”
I don’t suppose that experience would be transferrable to putting together a super-team for a covert op anyway. How many words a minute you type is unlikely to come up. Maybe I should watch the Dirty Dozen again to get in the zone. Or the Devil’s Brigade. Of course I’d need a TV for that. Or you know, access to electricity. While I was intensively considering such things (or daydreaming about food and clean clothing) a couple applicants came and went without me noticing. When I brought my attention back around, the guy in front of us was in a black leotard thing and had big guns on his forearms with a kind of metal framework.
“Where did you get that costume?”
He gestured vaguely with his gun-forearm “There’s a guy that makes them.”
“Give me his address, will you?”
“Sure, but it’s pretty expensive.”
“Thanks. So . . . it looks like you’re just a guy with guns?”
He gestured again with his gun limbs “Well as you can see, I have an exoskeleton to support them but mostly, yes, I’m ‘just’ a guy with guns. I do also have combat luck.”
Blue’s tongue flicked out in confusion “What’s combat luck?”
He replied deadpan “It means I’m lucky in combat.”
Martialla shook her head “Even if that was true, how would you know you had that power?”
“Hmm, I guess I wouldn’t. Maybe I’m just lucky.”
I snapped my fingers “Hey, are you that guy that killed that bird man in Chi-Town?” He nodded “I knew you looked familiar! I saw your picture in the paper. What exactly is the point of having a mask on your costume anyway? I know you’re the guy that did that.”
“But you don’t know my name.”
“I wouldn’t know your name anyway.”
We looked at each other for a while and then Blue broke the silence “Was that a hit or what was that all about?”
“He was sleeping with my wife.”
I raised an eyebrow “So you shot him fifty times?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t that murder?”
“I mean, yeah.”
Martialla leaned forward slightly “Why did you kill the guy? Isn’t your wife the one that betrayed you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why do you want to be on a crime fighting super-team if you’re a murderer? Are you the reformed villain? It’s always good to have one of them in the mix, people love that stuff. Redemption arcs are big. That would help with the press release.”
He frowned slightly “Crime fighting? I was told this was for a heist.”
“Well yeah . . . it is, but we’re the good guys.”
“If you say so.”
The next guy up had a very similar looking leotard, only it was red and blue instead of black and it had a big blue eagle on the chest with the wings stretching onto the shoulders.
I shook my head “No, no, sorry, I’ve had my fill of Statie super-soldier assholes. Why are there so many of you here? This is like a helter skelter amount of USA super patriot people in exile or on vacation or whatever. Sorry but I just can’t do it.”
The only part of his face that was visible frowned “I’m from Kansas City, why would you think I’m from the states?”
“You’re wearing a red and blue suit with a giant eagle on it.”
He looked down at himself “It doesn’t really look like a flag though. I have the eagle because I’m Eagle-Eye.”
“What about the red and blue?”
“It was the only suit they had.”
“Okay, so you have really good vision? Is that it?”
“All my senses are enhanced. Plus I have the extrasensory ability to perceive stress points, fracture planes, or weaknesses in people or objects – combined with my martial arts skills, this makes me able to deliver devastating blows.”
“Aren’t everyone’s weak points pretty much the same?”
“Uh . . . no.”
I looked over at Blue who just shrugged “I lived in Kansas City when I was kid, what high school did you go to?”
“John Burroughs.”
“No shit, I went to Parkway Central, do you remember that time . . .”
Martialla glared over at me “What does this have to do anything?”
“I don’t hear you asking any questions!” Martialla shook her head and crossed her skinny fish-arms “Okay how about this question, why are you in Madripoor?”
“I’m on the run from the mob.”
“Like the mafia in New York? There’s no mob in the CS.”
“Yes, there is, the Kansas City mob, among others.”
“What?! There’s no mob in Kansas City!”
“Actually there is. The DiGiovanni brothers came to Kansas City in 1912 from Sicily and . . .”
Martialla threw up her slimy webbed hands “Jesus Christ!”
I enjoyed writing these “assemble the team” posts (aka ripping off the best part of Deadpool 2) but they’re probably going to get tedious. I’m still going to post them, but I just wanted you to know that I know that you know.